


A Private Moment

by cw151



Series: Clawen Week 2015 [2]
Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Clawen, Clawen Week, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cw151/pseuds/cw151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 2 of Clawen Week 2015. </p>
<p>Claire comforts Owen. Angst & fluff, PTSD warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Private Moment

**Author's Note:**

> It's Day 2 of Clawen Week 2015! :) 
> 
> Claire comforts Owen. Angst & fluff, PTSD warning. 
> 
> Just a little drabble.

 

Claire woke with a start when she felt Owen suddenly sitting up in bed next to her. She could hear his rapid panting, and in the dim light of the bedroom she could see him bury his face in his hands.

 

It was five years since the incident of Isla Nublar and almost seven since his last year of service in the Navy, but his nightmares and flashbacks still persisted. They lessened, fortunately, but they were still there. Just like Claire’s, although Owen’s military past gave him an added burden in that regard. By now, they were down to 1-2 episodes per month of very different varieties. Some of them were still completely crippling, letting them forget where they were, making them unable to breathe, and leaving them worn out for the rest of the day, but the majority had become easier, manageable with the right coping strategies and with a possibility to recover from them in a much shorter time.

 

This one fortunately seemed to be a lighter one. Claire sat up and reached out to tenderly stroke Owen’s back. She knew that it was drenched with sweat even before she touched it.

 

“Sorry,” came Owen’s hoarse voice. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you have to get up early tomorrow.”  
He lowered his hands and Claire rolled her eyes, which he probably didn’t see in the darkness.

“This is much more important,” she replied firmly as she moved to sit on her knees so she could get closer to him and look at his face.

“Was it Isla Nublar, or –“ she asked calmly.

“Somalia,” Owen replied with a shaky voice. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. Claire kept caressing his back in slow, careful strokes.

“It’s ok. I’m gonna go change,” Owen said without looking at her. He pushed back the covers, pulled new boxers and a t-shirt from the dresser, and disappeared into the bathroom where he switched on the shower.

Sighing, Claire turned on her bedside lamp. She wasn’t going to go back to sleep until he was back anyway, so she might as well do something useful. The bed was completely soaked on Owen’s side, so Claire got up and exchanged the sheets with a few, practiced movements.

 

She heard the shower being turned off just as she slipped between the fresh sheets. The mattress was still a little bit wet where Owen had lain, but it was already much better than before.

A few seconds later, Owen padded back into the room. He still didn’t look at her, and his jaw was set in a firm line.

“Thanks for changing the sheets,” he said curtly as he crawled back into the bed and laid down on his back.

Claire frowned. She could tell that Owen was angry with himself for having had another attack, for losing control, and letting his memories get the better of him.

“You’re welcome,” she said, her hand searching for his and intertwining their fingers. “Being angry doesn’t solve anything,” she added softly. “You’re the one who always tells me that you have to let the body and mind deal with what happened in their own way and that you have to give yourself a break.”

Owen closed his eyes.

“I know,” he sighed.

Claire smiled and slipped deeper under the covers.

“Come here,” she whispered lovingly.

Owen only seemed to have waited for her to say that. He immediately moved over to her, pressed a heartfelt kiss on to her lips, and then slid a bit further down to rest his head just below her collarbone with a contended sigh. His arms wrapped tightly around Claire’s torso, and she began to gently massage his scalp and the back of his neck.

They’d done this countless of times, and this time didn’t fail to have its usual effect. After a few minutes, Claire could feel Owen’s breathing evening out, although his grip on her remained tight as if he was holding on to her for dear life.

Claire carefully reached over to turn off her bedside lamp and then quickly replaced her hand on Owen’s head. Her heart ached every single time she saw him like this, and she was just happy that there was at least _something_ she could do to help him a little bit. Even if she couldn’t share his burden in this this case, she could show him that she was there, that he wasn’t alone, that he was safe, and that he was loved.

 

And as strange as it sounded, she was _happy_ that she could be the person that was there for him, _happy_ that he trusted her and dared to lean on her in that moment. Sometimes she wondered if she could burst with love for him when that warm, fuzzy feeling rapidly expanded in her core, so quickly, strong, and intense that she thought there was no way it could physically fit into her body.

Owen snuggled even closer to her, his face nuzzling her collarbone, and Claire responded by pulling him flush against her and pressing a kiss on to the top of his head.

“I love you,” Owen whispered, his eyelids dropping.

“I love you, too,” Claire replied as she continued to watch over him.

 


End file.
